My Grandfather's Books

My grandfather’s books are lined up on the shelf there
I see them, their bindings are rigid and grey
They speak of the past, tell of wars and of rulers
My grandfather loves them and reads every day.


My grandfather’s books do not smile or giggle
They’re serious, stern, and they don’t talk too much.
When they do speak at all the matters are weighty
Politics, battles, and history and such.


My grandfather’s hands grip the covers so firmly
He turns every page with a serious face
He’s reading and learning, knows so much already
Of each president, of each battle, each place.


My grandfather’s books speak of strength and of courage
Like my grandfather there, they aren’t mushy or sweet
They’re hard and abrupt, and they tell you what’s happened
Every word stamped in ink on the printer’s crisp sheet.


My grandfather’s books are so strong, just like he is
I remember his muscles from when I was small
How his strength bowled me over; I smiled and wondered
And was proud of my grandpa so handsome and tall


My grandfather’s books don’t get dusty; he’s neat
And he never is sloppy, untidy or messy
But he does love his grandkids, is happy to see us
And view all us children as his little blessings


I do love my grandpa. And he loves me too.
Though sometimes he’s prickly, severe, kind of gruff
And I know in my mind every time that I see him
That ten thousand hugs simply won’t be enough.


My grandfather’s books… he can’t read them forever
They’ll sit on the shelf getting dusty someday
And I don’t want to think it, but Grandpa will follow
Someday my grandfather will just fade away.


My grandfather’s books; they will know him forever
The same as I will. He’ll be stamped on the page
His fingers won’t be there, but they’ll be remembered
Though my grandfather lived in some previous age


One more hug, one more “Love you!” I’ll give him today
Every time that I smile, I hope that he knows
How much I love him, will know him forever
Even when someday my grandfather goes.


My grandfather’s books someday will be thrown out
Or sold to a thrift store or shop of antiques
But his memory forever will be mine to cherish
And my grandfather’s smile will be mine to keep!


~ © Andrea Grace